


Beneath The Feet Of Shemlen

by joufancyhuh



Series: Elvhen Glory [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: A Fic To Fight For, F/M, Post Return To The Alienage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 17:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16978842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: Erenya returns to the alienage. Zevran has questions.





	Beneath The Feet Of Shemlen

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by 4vrafangirl: How about Zevran's reaction when Erenya returns to the Alienage? Hearing she was engaged and what transpired after?

The group dispersed after returning to Arl Eamon’s estate in Denerim. Only Zevran hung around, though preferring to linger out in the hall while Erenya conversed with Anora and Eamon. She relayed the atrocities she uncovered in the alienage in great detail, how Loghan let her people be sold as slaves to _Tevinter_ , of all fucking places. Both of the shemlens got a sparkle of delight at that, what a damning charge to raise against the acting King.

 

But those were _her_ people, people she knew, those she grew up with. Too many were lost, and yet this only mattered to them because it served in their vie for control. Already sickened to her stomach by what she witnessed, she turned away when Anora and Eamon began to argue over who should rule over Ferelden in Loghain’s place. Erenya didn’t care for these politics, not when she recalled her father locked in a filthy cage, how that cursed mage offered her power in exchange for her father’s blood.

 

_Damn them. Damn them all._

 

Zevran didn’t speak when Erenya stormed out of the room and down the hall toward outside. She needed fresh air, stifled by the reek of shems and mabari in the estate. In her march toward the gardens, the only place she could think of that offered the solace she sought, she avoided eye contact with the elvhen servants. How did they see her? A traitor to her race? Someone else to use their kind as a pawn?

 

Her stomach churned again, and she quickened her pace in response.

 

The relief when she stepped out into the open air was instant. She carded a hand through her hair as she paused, staring up into the cloudless blue of the sky as though searching for the peace to quiet her thoughts. But then someone - Zevran - cleared his throat. She hadn’t realized he followed her out, though it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

 

“Marriage, Pepe?”

 

Erenya scowled, turning her attentions back to the ground. “Not now, Zev.” She moved away from the doors, further into the gardens until she found a quiet nook in the garden, well-hidden from the main path. Wasting no time, she laid down on the grass and closed her eyes, soaking up the warmth of the sun’s rays. The only good to come from the day, the pleasant weather, which she gladly accepted.

 

“I am merely curious.” Zevran’s knee leaned against her ribcage as he positioned himself to sit cross-legged beside her. “I have told you a great many personal things about myself, but you, I am now realizing, remain ever so tight-lipped on your past.”

 

The way it would’ve stayed, if not for Shianni’s big mouth. A problem even after Erenya left the alienage, it seemed.  It was a simple trick, to avoid talking of her own past by turning the topic back onto Zevran by asking probing questions. He loved talking about himself and his assassinations, so she considered herself safe.

 

A year almost at pass, and her cousin remained so very much the same. It should come as a blessing that Shianni’s temperament stayed predictable, even after the tragic events, but at the moment, it left Erenya annoyed.

 

Erenya cracked open an eye, cautious in her response. “It didn’t stick.”

 

Zevran threw his head back to laugh. “I should think not, considering you are here with me, and they are …?”

 

“Dead.” Erenya closed her eyes to the concern that brewed in his golden eyes. “It never actually happened, so it wasn’t as though I kept it from you.” She knew her snap came unwarranted, but she wished this topic dropped, not to add to the aggravation of the day. Her companion usually read her well, but today he continued to press, his curiosity outweighing her silent warnings.

 

“I never suggested otherwise.” His knee against her shifted away; she peeked to see him move to lay beside her in the grass. “You wish not to speak of it. I will leave it be.”

 

A knot in her brow formed at the slight sad tinge to the last of his words. She sighed, reaching out to feel for his hand by her side, which she gripped hard. “It’s been a long day, Zev. I hate coming back, only to see everything is worse than when I left.” And how she left, with the blood of shems dripping off the end of her sword. How empowered she felt, how righteous, how better off she felt the alienage would become.

 

And now, how wrong that belief was.

 

But no matter how the thought of setting foot in there once more twisted her stomach into knots, Zevran only attempted to support her, though he didn’t know what through. Her annoyance toward him came unjustified and undeserving. If she shut him out now, when he tried to know her better, he might not try again.

 

Her tongue darted past her lips to wet them in preparation for, what she hoped would become, a short summary of the affair. “Nelaros was a fine man, my betrothed.” She felt Zevran shift beside her, curling so that his head fell onto her shoulder.  

 

She continued on when he settled down, mentally searching for where to begin her tale and how much to include. She loved Zevran. She trusted him, which was no small feat. So why this urge to hold back from him?

 

Because she was ashamed. The alienage, her family, all of it. And she remained bitter about it, the sting to even think of what she went through growing up there. Zevran saw her at her strongest, most in control. He didn’t get to see the years she spent hating tradition, how weak she felt, how she stood aside while letting that noble prick take Shianni. Here, back in Denerim, she was no great Warden but another elf in the alienage, all accomplishments pushed aside. This place kept her weak, and if she told him, confessed everything, then he would see it too.

 

“I never told you how I became a Warden.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat before continuing on. “My cousin, Soris, and I were supposed to marry these two from Highever. It’s tradition, to arrange the marriages, to find someone outside our own alienage.”

 

“I have heard of this,” Zevran cut in when she thought she could go no further. Already, visceral images of that day flashed through her mind. _Like dogs, Shianni._ A promise. A war cry. Erenya squeezed her eyes tight against the burning sting of them.

 

She decided to skip back, move away from that bloody day. “My father put a lot of work into arranging that marriage. I never agreed to it, fought it with every breath. Not because I wanted to marry for love, but because I … I didn’t want to become my mother.” Guilt pooled in her gut at the verbal admission. She never spoke those words out loud, though she thought them a great many times. She loved her mother, idolized even. How did she explain that to Zevran, how she pitied her mother for the same aspects that she loved in her?

 

“My mother, she was second generation Dalish. She carried her freedom in her chest, and I ... grew up watching that strain against her complacency.” She often wondered why her mother gave into it, why marry and have kids when the woman belonged in the wild, surrounded by nature.

 

Zevran’s hand lifted hers to his lips, brushing along her knuckles in a light kiss. “Even feral creatures seek solace, Pepe. In the familiar, in each other. It is not such a bad thing, to have people who care about you.”

 

“They only care as long as you follow their rules.” She groaned, her eyes flying open. “You and I both know, that is no life.” The mention of his life in the Crows came on its own. But they were alike, the two of them, bound by what they didn’t choose for themselves. She turned her face to rub her chin along the top of his head, mussing up his hair. “What good did their rules, their traditions bring them? If we hadn’t arrived, if I hadn’t returned…”

 

A sigh passed through her lips as she closed her eyes once more. “The shems, they take and they take from us. I wish the rest of them could see that, how the shemlens will never be satisfied until we’re enslaved or dead. But that desire to fight back isn’t there.”

 

“Your cousin, she shares in your passion for the people.”

 

Erenya groaned, scrubbing down her face with her free hand. “Shianni is all talk. She’s not a fighter, not with anything more than her words. Without me here, she’ll get herself killed.”

 

“So teach her.” Zevran sat up, his head absent from her shoulder as he leaned on an elbow above her. With the change in position and release of her hand, she opened her eyes to find him staring at her, seriousness written on his face.

 

A bitter laugh rose from her throat. “Shianni? She refuses to learn. Besides, when will I have time, with this damned blight on our hands?”

 

“With you removed from the alienage, perhaps she is a more willing student? Don’t be so quick to dismiss her, Pepe. She has the eyes that shine like yours.”

 

“And how is that?”

 

The corners of Zevran’s mouth lifted into a grin as he bent his head toward her. “Like none shall deny you; that to do so results only in death.”

 

She purred under the kiss he delivered, her lips parting to let his tongue inside. Arms locked around the back of his head, and he shifted beside her, moving so that his body pressed her into the grass. When he drew back, she smiled into his lips. “Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

 

He tsked, jumping to his feet and holding a hand out in her direction. “You help people, _mia amore_. Should that help not also extend to your family?”

 

Letting him pull her to her feet, she considered the idea. Teach Shianni? It would only get her killed faster. But someone needed to stay, defend their people when Erenya could not. And she damn sure didn’t trust either Eamon or Anora to do that for her.

 

Together, her and Zevran “borrowed” a few swords from the armory. The shemlens kept a surplus of weapons, and a few missing blades would escape notice. Waiting until nightfall, the two stole out of the estate and into the alienage. Shianni stood where Erenya first saw her again, underneath the tree.

 

She tossed a sword to Shianni’s feet. “I can’t stay to help, but I’m not going to let you be defenseless either.” When Shianni picked it up, Erenya nodded her head. Yes, this plan would work. The two cousins grinned at one another. “Let’s begin.”


End file.
